


More Than Happy

by serenelystrange



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gift Giving, Hardison Appreciation Hours, Humor, Pre-Relationship, Team Feels, Team Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelystrange/pseuds/serenelystrange
Summary: Team Leverage decides that it's Hardison Appreciation Hours... much to Hardison's befuddlement.Pre P/H relationship.For coffeesuperhero - Thank you for participating in the Leverage Secret Santa Exchange this year!
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Leverage Secret Santa Exchange (Mod Gifts)





	More Than Happy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeesuperhero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeesuperhero/gifts).



It starts with Nate, oddly enough. Hardison comes into the office on an unusually cold early-December day only to have a squishy bundle tossed at him by Nate. He catches it out of instinct, only fumbling a little, and looks over at Nate with a confused look.

Nate shrugs and gestures to the window at the outside.

“Figured you’d be cold out there trailing the mark with Eliot.”

Hardison shuts the door behind him and looks down at the bundle in his hands, realizing that it’s a cloud-soft scarf in a deep green color.

“Thanks, man,” Hardison says, surprised but pleased. He holds the scarf out a bit to inspect it, noticing the little bits here and there that are slightly uneven.

“Did you make this?” he asks. “Do you knit now? Is this a thing I missed?”

Nate rolls his eyes, but nods.

“It keeps my hands busy. Don’t get too excited.”

Hardison is too busy trying on his cozy new scarf to pay attention to Nate’s attitude, and doesn’t bother replying.

When Eliot brings him a coffee a few days later, Hardison doesn’t think too much of it at first. They get each other coffees all the time, usually during a stakeouts or “FBI” monitoring days. He takes it with a thank you nod to Eliot, still yawning as he takes the first sip, only to have his eyes pop open in surprise as he tastes the drink.

“Did you get me a pumpkin spice latte?” he asks Eliot, incredulously. “With… extra whipped cream and..” he opens the lid to peek into the cup before grinning. “And sprinkles!”

“No,” Eliot huffs, averting his eyes. “They must have messed up the orders at the counter.”

“Sure,” Hardison says, teasingly. “Because Mr. big tough hitter man would never order such a frou-frou drink when there are pretty ladies nearby, right?”

Eliot just glares for a moment before huffing again and smacking Hardison on the arm just hard enough to jostle his precious coffee.

“Just enjoy your damn diabetes in a cup, Hardison,” he says.

“I intend to,” Hardison says. “God bless whoever discovered nutmeg, let me tell you. Actually, I do know who discovered nutmeg. It was…”

Eliot silences him with a look.

“Another time, then,” Hardison says, laughing. With his delicious caffeinated life-liquid in his hands, it will take a lot more than Eliot’s grumpiness to ruin his morning.

Sophie doesn’t get him anything, per say, but Hardison notices that she’s been spending a lot more time around him than usual. Not in need of anything, but just hanging around and watching what he does as the Resident Hacker, and asking questions about how certain things work. She even shares her fancy English chocolates that Hardison knows she steals every time they’re overseas.

“How do you keep track of all of this?” Sophie asks, waving a hand at the array of monitors. “On top of all of us in your ear, and however many trackers we have active on any given job.”

Hardison smiles over at her, honestly delighted that she’s noticed how much he actually does.

“Lots of practice,” he says. “And also, if I don’t, one of you could get killed. And that would really put a damper on my whole day, you know?”

Sophie laughs at that, shaking her head at him fondly.

“Just the one day?” she asks.

“You know what,” Hardison says. “For you… it would ruin at least two whole days.”

“That’s better,” Sophie says, unwrapping herself another chocolate and offering the bag over to Hardison, who takes one eagerly.

“These must have crack in them,” he says. “Or MSG. But I’m thinking crack. How are they so damn good?”

Sophie leans in and gives him a conspiratorial whisper.

“Everything is better when it’s stolen,” she says.

“Truth,” Hardison says, helping himself to another chocolate before looking back to his screens, Sophie watching with interest beside him.

It’s nearly Christmas when Parker does anything out of the ordinary. Ordinary being a completely subjective term and philosophical concept when it comes to Parker, of course.

“Movie night!” she announces as Hardison comes into Eliot’s apartment.

“I thought we were meeting to go over the logistics for the Lopez job?” Hardison asks, gesturing to the laptop bag on his shoulder.

“Nope,” Parker says, grinning up at him from where she’s sitting on the couch, in the middle seat.

“We go in,” Eliot says, “you do the tech magic on the door, Parker climbs some shit, and I punch people if I have to. It’ll be fine.”

“Not even a 5 level danger,” Parker agrees. “So, movie night!”

“Ok?” Hardison says, still unsure why they bothered hiding this, but happy enough to go along with a relaxing night of movie time.

“Come sit down,” Parker says, gesturing at the seat to her right.

Hardison puts his laptop bag down and takes off his coat and gifted scarf, hanging them on the hooks by the door, before settling down next to Parker with an amused smile.

“How much sugar have you had today?” he asks, taking in her wide eyes and pink flushed skin.

“Yes,” Parker says, fairly bouncing in place.

“Move over,” Eliot says, handing Hardison a big bowl of homemade popcorn before taking the seat next to Parker, leaning against one arm of the couch.

Parker scoots as instructed, though Hardison can tell there is still plenty of room between her and Eliot. It puts her right next to him where he’s leaning against the other arm of the couch, and Hardison can’t say he minds that one little bit.

“What are we watching?” he asks, holding the bowl out for Parker to grab a handful of popcorn from.

“Die Hard,” Eliot says, grinning over at him with delight.

Hardison notices that Eliot has his own popcorn bowl, leaving Hardison to share with Parker, but he doesn’t point it out.

“Of course,” Hardison says, laughing. “You would absolutely be John McClain. I don’t know why I never realized it before.”

“Yippe-ki-yay, motherfucker!” Eliot quotes, smirking.

They start the movie, and for the first half hour or so, nothing interesting happens. But then they finish the popcorn and put the bowls on the coffee table to deal with later, leaving Hardison with fidgety empty hands.

“You mind?” Parker asks, looking up at him during a lull in the action on screen.

Hardison is shaking his head before he even knows what she’s asking for, because there isn’t much he wouldn’t agree with for Parker. Still, he’s surprised when Parker leans her body against his, cuddling against his shoulder. She stares at his arm meaningfully until he gets with the program and raises his arm to wrap around her, letting her tuck her head practically against his collarbone.

“What?” Hardison can’t help but ask, looking over at Eliot with panicked eyes, only to meet the man’s amused and unhelpful gaze.

“Shh,” Parker says, adjusting herself so she can see the tv and still be held. “We’re about to get to the Ho Ho Ho machine gun part.”

Hardison takes another moment to wonder what the actual heck is going on, before shrugging internally and being thankful. There are way worse things than watching movies and cuddling with the girl you’re in love with.

When movie night is over, Hardison, unable to let a mystery stay unsolved, can’t help but ask what the hell has been going on over the last month.

“Seriously,” he says. “Everyone has been extra nice to me lately. I’m starting to get worried. Are you dying?” he asks, glancing between Eliot and Parker with wide eyes. “Wait. Am I dying? I would know if I was dying, right?”

“No,” Eliot laughs. “To all three questions,” he adds.

“I don’t like those implications,” Hardison says, “but I’m glad nobody is dying.”

“We just wanted to show you we appreciate you,” Parker says, looking directly at him for a moment before shifting her gaze away with awkwardness.

“It was Parker’s idea,” Eliot says, shrugging. “She said that we might…take you for granted or whatever.”

“Yeah?” Hardison asks, grinning over at a faintly blushing Parker.

“Shut up,” she says.

“Not a chance,” Hardison says, softly.

“You’re really hard to Christmas shop for!” Parker defends. “And then Sophie was telling me about how gestures can be more memorable than physical gifts.”

“Which she thought was stupid,” Eliot butts is.

Parker shrugs.

“Which I thought was stupid,” she concurs. “Because things are fun to steal! And hold. And count.”

Hardison just laughs, knowing she’s imaging piles of money again.

“Anyway,” Parker says. “I told Sophie we should try it with you, and she agreed, and then it all kinda spiraled from there.”

“I love it,” Hardison says. “Come on, hug it out, both of you.”

He holds open his arms and waits, raising an expectant eyebrow at Eliot and Parker until they shuffle over and let him wrap them up in an only slight awkward three-way hug.

After a few seconds, Eliot pulls away, muttering about personal space and sentimental nonsense. Hardison lets him have his lies, this time.

Parker, however, holds on for another whole thirty seconds, even letting Hardison run his fingers through her hair a few times.

When she does finally pull back, she’s still smiling, and Hardison doesn’t think his heart could beat any harder without an actual threat to his life.

“Any chance you two will accept hugs for Christmas, too?” he asks, only half kidding. “I haven’t started shopping yet,” he admits.

“It’s the 22nd!” Eliot says.

“I’m getting you some damn chill pills,” Hardison teases.

Parker grins, but points a finger up at Hardison with authority.

“I demand a wrapped gift,” she says. “Steal me something nice.”

“Or I could buy it,” Hardison laughs.

“It’s better stolen,” Parker says, defiantly.

“You know,” Hardison says, thinking back to his conversation with Sophie. “I have heard that before.”

“Go home,” Eliot says to them both, shooing them out the door. “I’m going to bed.”

Hardison and Parker bundle back up in their winter clothes and head out.

“Need a ride?” Hardison asks, hoping Parker hadn’t driven anything to get there.

“Sure,” she says, “Where’s the car?”

“Around the block,” Hardison says. “Some asshole was taking up two spots out front.”

“Lead the way,” Parker says as they make their way down the sidewalk.

And then, to Hardison’s delighted surprise, she reaches over and grabs his gloved hand in her own mittened one, swinging them lightly between the two of them as they walk.

Hardison might not know what’s going on, or where this will all lead, but for now he’s more than happy to just be here, walking down a cold and rainy sidewalk holding Parker’s hand.


End file.
